It's A Fine Life, Indeed
by MaruTwist
Summary: "Better known among me more intimate friends as the Artful Dodger!" A story about Dodger, Fagin and the Boys, and Dodger's new, interesting friend...
1. Chapter 1 Crime

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**Hello there! This is not only my first work of Oliver Twist fiction, but it is also my first series here on the site. I hope you enjoy! Critiques are very welcome. However, flaming is NOT appreciated. Please enjoy! ^^**

**A few notes:**

**In this fiction, events and setting, as well as certain occurring events are based off the MUSICAL "Oliver!", NOT the novel by Charles Dickens. **

**Also, I OWN NOTHING. I do own a few characters that will be making their appearance, but I own NO Oliver Twist characters. Thank you.**

_In this story, you will be taken into London, England, in the 1830's. You will be switching points of view (POV) between various characters, mainly the 3 main characters- Fagin, Dodger, and Alpharetta. This story will consist of 3 acts. The first occurs BEFORE Oliver's appearance in the story, the second occurs AFTER Oliver leaves Fagin's group, and the third takes place a few years after act 2. Please enjoy._

**_ACT 1- WELCOME_**

**_Chapter 1- "Who Eva' Said Crime Don't Pay?"_**

DODGER'S POV

Scattered raindrops ran amongst the deep cracks of the old lodging's weathered windows, the wind howling mightily outside. A distressed Fagin stared, blindly, through the foggy glass into the wet, mangled streets of London. Tomorrow, Bill would be coming... And Fagin... He owed money; SERIOUS money. That, all of the young boys knew. However, none of the boys knew it better than Jack Dawkins, the Artful Dodger himself. He knew for sure that the money that Fagin owed was simply non-existent.

What was more, there would be no possible way of making ANY amount of money today... With the weather outdoors going about as it was, there was no possibility of pedestrians out on London's miserable streets.

Fagin's boys sat, warily, around the lone wooden table in the lonely den, a plate of steaming, untouched sausages sitting solemnly at it's center, mugs of undrained gin scattered on the dreary surface. An eerie silence creeped through the musty den as their caretaker continued to marvel, defeated, at the weather-beaten day. He had hoped there would be a chance to collect the owed money in time. Fagin and the boys; they were toast.

Even Dodger didn't utter a word during this silence. It was almost a condemned silence; as though speaking simply wouldn't be proper, no, not even possible, seeing their leader so broken, so defeated. The man finally uttered something barley intelligible. Young Jack Dawkins, however, heard it clearly.

"Go out today if you will it, my dears... I'm turning in early..." And with his commands spoken, Fagin shuffled, half-heartedly, to his sleeping quarters, where all of the boys knew he would stare blindly at the ceiling until the night.

No one moved.

Later in the day, the boys skulked about the isolated old shack, some staring through the foggy windows in a daze similar to old Fagin's, others sat dismal, pondering their soon approaching fate... What would Bill do to them...?

A seemingly cheerful Charley Bates made his way up to his best friend, Mr. Jack Dawkins, "better known among his more intimate friends as the Artful Dodger." However, sitting on the lonely wooden bench, beside the table of stone-cold sausages, Dodger gave a long, sarcastic side glance to his jovial mate, who bore the stupidest of grins on his rounded face.

"... And what 'er YOU so gay 'bout?" scoffed the Dodger, clearly in no mood for smiles. "Find a double rainbow, MASTER BATES? 'Cuz there certainly ain't one 'ere."

Little Charley Bates refused to let up his mischievous smile.

With a sigh, the Dodger stood straight in front of Charley's face. "... Ello...? Cha-ley? Uh, if you 'aven't noticed... Fagin's in a bit of a rut... And... no one is happy right 'bout now. So why the silly grin?"

Charley finally spoke words behind his lips, tightly pulled back into the biggest smile Dodger ever did see. "Wanna go at it?"

"... Go at it? 'Aw, not today Cha-ley. I'm not in the mood for a competition..."

"It could help save Fagin!"

Now, THIS peaked Dodger's interest. Not only was he willing to help Fagin because he was the man who took the Dodger in while he wondered the streets alone years ago, but it ALSO meant a happy Fagin, which meant happy boys, which meant lots of gin and poker, and no Bill Sikes to ruin it all.

"... And 'ow so?" Dodger asked little Charley, who only held his grin in reply before proclaiming;

"Who'evea steals enough today to repay Bill the debt Fagin be owe'n to ol' wins."

Dodger smiled for the first time that morning. "Sounds simple 'nuff!" But his smile faded quickly as his glance moved to the rain-covered window, the hopeful gaze his little hazel eyes had been holding, falling. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Cha-ley, 'ave ya taken a damn look outside yet?"

"Why yes, I 'ave. So?"

Dodger glanced up, surprised at Charley's persistence. He shook his head and sighed. "No one ain't gonna be out on the streets, Cha-ley... But we might as well. Better than this lolly-gagging the rest of the bunch are doin' 'round 'ere."

And with those words, Charley Bates and Jack Dawkins, the invincible Artful Dodger, made their separate ways to the London streets. Dodger couldn't help but feel that it was all in vain. However, Dodger had no idea that he wouldn't be walking home empty-handed... That for a long, long time, from that day onward, he would have his artful hands full, quite full, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2 Theif

**(AUTHOR'S NOTE)**

**Hello, dear readers! Thanks for checking out Chapter 2 of "It's a Fine Life, Indeed." All characters, except for original ones, are not owned by me. The following fanfiction (as a whole) is rated "T" for some blood, violence, cursing, some suggestive themes and underage drinking. This fanfiction is also based off of the MUSICAL movie made in 1968, not the book by Charles Dickens. Thanks for the read, and please leave feedback so I may better improve your reading experience! Flaming, however, will not be tolerated. Please enjoy the story, and expect an update soon!**

**CHAPTER 2 OF ACT 1- A Theif on the Streets on This Type of Day?**

DODGER'S POV

As soon as Dodger hit the streets, he new that he was simply wasting his time. The rain that fell from the constantly gray London skies was not letting up one bit, gallons and gallons fell at a time. Even the moment that he stepped onto the high porch of Fagin's warehouse, he was drenched, head to toe, his top hat collecting enough water to fall down over his squinting eyes. Dodger tried to pay no head to the monstrous weather as he bounded down the slippery, cobble-stoned streets, however, his hopes were falling steadily.

He and Charley Bates had split up, going off in different directions to cover as much ground as possible. Dodger knew every street, every road, every alley-way like the back of his own hand. And yet, at every turn, he only found one deserted road after another. After crossing through the 38th road, Dodger lost it. He seized the hat off of his head and dashed it upon the ground, cursing to himself loud enough for any passer-by, if there ever were to be one, to hear.

"I don't get it! Why ain't there a sing-le pedestrian about?" But he did get it, actually. The answer was right above him, in the gray, pouring merciless sky. After standing in one place, still being soaked to the bone by God's persistent rain, Dodger let out a frustrated huff before snatching his equally soaked top hat off the ground, and hurried along, in vain.

After another hour of useless searching for a pocket to pick, the rain paying no heed to him, still coming down as hard as needles on one's back, the wind, still chilling to the bone, Dodger noticed he was now in the richer side of town. He had been here many a time, as the best pockets to pick were always found here. He only journeyed this far on special occasions, however, since it was quite a walk away from the slums in which Fagin's group dwelled. He finally stood in front of a white, majestic, castle-like house at the end of a narrow street he had been down too many times before in his time with Fagin's boys. He had taken notice of this enormous dwelling many a time before. Who wouldn't? He had always wanted to smash one of it's finely crafted windows and grab whatever riches he could imagine finding on the inside. He longed to enter this majestic manner and rob it of all it held, however, Dodger had never tried breaking and entering before in his whole criminal career, and he certainly wasn't about to start now, what with Fagin's financial troubles. At this point in time, Dodger knew that Fagin simply couldn't afford to lose his best pick pocket to the traps. Not at a time like this.

Still, Dodger's interest in the majestic house before him peaked like never before. He could feel his fingers itching for something, ANYTHING, to steal. Suddenly, his eyes began moving furiously, his hands, they were bleeding, STARVING for a pocket to pick, an item to steal. He could feel his inner thief coming out of him all at once, combined with delirious frustration. He once again, seized the hat off of his head and dashed it roughly upon the cold cobblestone, beyond wet at this moment. He cursed, over and over again in an angry fit.

"WHY can't I be like Bill Sikes? He'd 'ave picked A THOUSAND pockets by now! Better yet, could 'ave broken into this house right 'ere, no problem at all!" The fuming Dodger shut his eyes, and stiffened completely. When he had calmed himself once again, he looked up.

There, he saw something he had never noticed before- the white, castle-like house in front of him had something to offer after all... Lawn ornaments, strewn about the front lawn of the manner. Gold mini-statues, drenched in rain, easily uprooted... How had he never noticed this before? There WAS something he could steal! Why hadn't he taken a good look before? Here, these golden lawn ornaments, these could pay for Fagin's debt, and even for weeks, maybe even MONTHS worth of gin and food for the boys! Dodger could feel his legs pulling him forward, and yet, something was pulling him back... Something... Or someONE?

The Dodger knew his trade well, and took quite a bit of precautions when it came to stealing off of property. He pretended to walk in a direction diagonal to the magnificent dwelling and its expensive lawn statues, and even check a non-existent watch upon his wrist before taking a long look around. No one was on the streets, just as he had thought. Not in this weather. Dodger even considered this weather a blessing at this point. He could NEVER have pulled off a robbery such as this in broad daylight, where he would surely be caught.

After inspecting the barren area, Dodger began taking his first steps toward ending Fagin's debt. Moving stealthy closer and closer to the gleaming lawn ornaments, he could feel his heart racing, not in fear, but in breathless anticipation, his fingers itching for something to grab. Only a few more feet, and...

"THEIF!"

Dodger's body froze completely. He looked up, slowly, not even thinking about making a run for it. Why? That, he did not know. Why wasn't he running? Why didn't he flee? His eyes fell upon something behind the house's front window. WHY hadn't he checked the windows? Someone was looking at him. Only faintly could he see the outline of a face... An... UGLY face... A girl's face.

The silhouette disappeared, then reappeared at the front door. The door opened, closed, and out came a girl... Someone his age? Who was this girl? Did SHE own the house?

"You... Who ARE you?"

"..." Dodger couldn't speak. Why did HE have to answer to some stupid rich girl? She spoke again, this time, softer.

"... Please, come over here. I'd like to talk to you..."

Dodger didn't move a muscle. If he'd move anywhere, it would be toward the streets, fleeing for his life. The LAST thing he would do would be to walk toward certain capture... He couldn't afford to do it.

"I won't turn you in. Promise."

"... And 'ow can I trust YOU...?" was all the Dodger could force from behind his lips.

"Well, I'd come out there, but I'd prefer to not mess up my makeup. It's dreadful weather, so why don't you come in where it's dry?"

Even though the offer was tempting, Dodger held himself back. It was obviously a trap that would ultimately land himself WITH the traps. He took a step backward.

"You wan't the lawn ornaments, now do ya? Come over 'ere and I'll give 'em to ya."

This struck Dodger's attention, but he still didn't move. However, he did consider- she really could be telling the truth, this rich girl... But she HAD called him a thief after all... And yet, he was the Artful Dodger! Fagin hadn't given him such a title if he wasn't "artful" with his "dodging..." If there were any trouble, he could get out of it... couldn't he?

He stepped forward. The girl waited. Soon enough, dodger had made it to the front porch of the house. He held onto his hat, and observed this strange girl...

She wasn't all that ugly, now that he got a good look at her. She could have been prettier, if it weren't for all the make-up on her face. She had a round face, and hair that was somewhere in between brown and blonde, along with dark, smoldering brown eyes that were almost black. He looked at her dress, lace, something only a rich girl would be found wearing, even in the comfort of her own home. It disgusted Dodger, the way rich folk dressed, even when they weren't goin' anywhere.

He looked back into the girls scary brown eyes. "So..."

The girl observed him as well, his ratty clothing, his bright blue jacket, his big, squinty hazel eyes, his messy brown hair, matted down with water, under his big top hat. She giggled at this.

"... What the 'ell is so funny?" Dodger asked, wondering if he had been tricked after all.

"You're hat! Why do you 'ear it? It looks funny!" She began laughing even harder now. The Dodger's face became bright red as he adjusted his signature hat on his head, frowning deeply. He felt a wave of relief, however, as he knew this girl couldn't possibly be wanting to turn him in. Not with the way she was speaking to him, in a calm, innocent manner- not at all menacing.

The girl leaned against the door, an intrigued look on her round face.

"So, tell me, what is a thief like yourself doing on the streets on this type o day?"

CHAPTER 3 WILL BE UPLOADED IN A FEW HOURS. HOPE YOU ENJOYED!


	3. Chapter 3 Alpharetta

**(AUTHOR'S NOTE)**

**Hello again, readers! I wanted to make a certain comment about Dodger's age... Since this is based off the 1968 musical movie version, I made note that Jack Wild, the actor who played the role of "Dodger" was 16 while filming, even though he looks much younger. I asked my sister, who is a hard-core Oliver fan, how old the Dodger is, and she said sometimes it varies, but for the most part, he is a young-looking, early teenager. If you don't like to imagine him this way, just ignore some of the dialogue about his age. Thanks everyone! Please, enjoy chapter 3!**

**Chapter 3 of Act 1- Alpharetta**

DODGER'S POV

Dodger really felt he could trust this girl, little by little, he began to feel that she couldn't possibly do him any harm. And yet, he still knew to take the proper precautions, and not to give to much away, while still being his regular, young gentleman self.

"Out for a stroll, that I am."

"Liar."

... Okay, so maybe lying about his circumstances wasn't the brightest idea. Maybe Dodger would have to put on the charm for this one...

"Alwight, alwight. But it doesn't matter much what I was doing. Now then, what's a fine young lady such as you'self doing inside on such a beautiful day?"

The girl gave him a sarcastic look.

"Beautiful day my arse. Just tell me, all I want to know is why you tried to steal my papa's favorite lawn statues." The girl motioned to the drenched front lawn before her.

"You can't prove anything! I was just... _Admiring_ them, yes, I was! Just admiring them."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Mmm-hm. Tell me about yourself."

Dodger was tired of the games. "Tell you about MY self? You called me a thief, so I assume that's all I am to you, am I right?" He turned and strode slowly down the steps of the front porch, dusting off his top hat condescendingly, hands shoved in his pockets and strode down the road.

"Wait! Please come back! I... I'll give you anything you want!"

Dodger stopped walking, then turned cheekily, back to the rich girl.

"...Anything?" He grinned. His facade must have been working, because the young girl nodded.

"Anything. Just... Let me explain!"

It was only moments later when Dodger found himself deep in conversation with this strange girl.

"... You're a pickpocket, right?"

Dodger nodded, curious as to why she cared at all, this rich girl.

"That's so... intriguing... I've seen you 'ere before, I always see you, outside, I do. What's your name? You can tell me, I promise, I won't tell anyone."

"What about ya ol' man?"

"I hate my ol' man. My mum, too. You can tell me, I'm honest!"

Dodger pondered this for a moment. He figured it couldn't do any harm... AND, if she was willing to give him anything, it was certainly worth it. He sighed, and then finally decided he was going to trust this girl. He held out his hand, and flashed a grin.

"M' name's Jack Dawkins, better known among me more intimate friends as the Artful Dod-jah!"

The girl stood still and unmoving for a few moments. Then, she smiled the biggest, whitest smile the Dodger had ever seen, and she grabbed both of his hands in her own, and shook them with great enthusiasm.

"Mine's Alpharetta! But call me what eva ya want, Mista Dod-jah! I hate my name anyway, so please, call me whateva ya like!"

Dodger was quite surprised by this girl's sudden change in attitude, but it didn't matter. He felt some strange warmth inside of him, meeting this young girl who didn't want to turn him in, and who could help him save Fagin. He knew that she would give him anything that he wanted. It was just Dodger's intuition. He could just tell.

ALPHARETTA'S POV

Alpharetta allowed Dodger into her house, the house that she hated with such a passion she could feel the hatred coursing through her veins. This boy, the "Artful Dodger," so he called himself... The boy she always saw was up to no good out in the streets... He fascinated her.

The pair stood in the foyer of the enormous house, adorned in anything you could consider fancy- velvet drapes, soft, comfortable looking, fancy couches, statues, old ones, gold ones, anything that would cost over 200 pounds, everywhere. This was the exact reason Alpharetta hated her life.

She turned around to stare at the Dodger, who was still soaking wet. He took off his hat and took a gander at her home, although Alpharetta could tell quite clearly that he wasn't used to this type of living. He looked awkward and strange, standing there in his ratty clothing and dirt-smudged cheeks, dripping all over her papa's expensive carpet. But did she care about that? No, not one bit. She had other plans in mind...

"So, Mista Dodjah, where do you stay at?"

"... You mean ma lodgings? Oh, I stay with..." he glanced down. She could tell he was still unsure about giving away too much. He looked up, and finally finished his statement. "... eh, you wouldn't care. Just a bunch a lowly criminals like me self, that's all."

"Better than living 'ere I bet, that's for sure, Mista Dod-jah."

The Dodger shook his head and sighed. His gaze fell upon her once again, and he could tell he was staring at her...

"How old are you, miss?" He asked.

Alpharetta looked down at whatever it was the Dodger was staring at, grimaced, then quickly pulled up her quite revealing dress. "14..."

"Ah." The Dodger looked up. "That so?"

"YES." She said, sternly. "And yourself?"

"Same as you, miss." He strolled around the foyer, looking at all the expensive things he had always imagined where behind the house's doors. "You don't like livin' 'ere? Ya got everythin' ya need, don't cha?"

Alpharetta let out a sarcastic laugh. "Ha, yes, YES, everything... Except..."

The Dodger looked around a little more, before noticing that she had spoken. "... Everythin' 'cept what?"

Alpharetta stared at the ground. Here she was, talking to this boy she had only just met, even though she had been watching him for what seemed like forever, yet she was opening up so much about herself to him.

"... Friends, that's what. I 'ave to stay in this bloody place all the time... I can never go out, I'm taught my studies at home... I hardly even know what outside looks like!"

The Dodger didn't seem very interested, but she could tell he was listening.

"Hm. That so?"

"Yes... I'm quite lonely, I am."

"Yes, yes, and quite spoiled by the looks of it." The Dodger said in his most mocking polite voice possible. She WAS wearing only the finest lace, and only the finest make-up as well.

"Not my fault!" she said, defensively. "My mum demands I'm dressed in this manner every day. I can't do a thing about it. I haven't the faintest idea why I dress this way when I'm never allowed to see anyone..." She looked up at the Dodger and smiled at him. "It's nice getting to talk to someone every once in a while. If my papa knew I had invited you in, I'd probably be locked in my room for months." She laughed, light-heartedly.

The Dodger couldn't help but smile as well.

"Always a pleasure, miss." he bowed as he spoke, which made Alpharetta laugh. This boy who was supposed to be the scum of the street, acting like such a gentleman... He really was a mystery to her. She wanted to know more, but couldn't find the words to ask.

"You must lead a very... Adventurous life, Mista Dod-jah." she said, quietly.

The Dodger stopped smiling. He stood straight again, and once again, his eyes wandered to the ceiling. "Eh... It has its... Charms..."

Alpharetta could tell that something was on his mind, but she dared not ask what. She wanted to know everything about this young man, the boy she had always stared at through her window on lonely Saturdays. He was finally here, in front of her... Now what was she to do?

There was another long, awkward silence before the Dodger finally spoke.

"... Didn't you say you were gonna... Er..."

"Oh, yes, that's right! I'll be back in just a moment!" Alpharetta hurried her way up the stairs in the foyer, then entered her mother and father's large room, heading right to where her mother's jewelry and her father's watches were kept. She glanced around for something to carry them with, then found a large sack at the corner of the room. She tossed everything she could find into the sack that would be worth any value.

"Won't be needin' THESE anymore, will ya?" she muttered to herself before returning to the Dodger.

His eyes grew wide when she arrived with the bag. Dodger quickly looked at it's contents. Jewels of every kind, only the most expensive wares... And she was GIVING them to him? Alpharetta could read all of this off of his facial expression. They had only just met, and she was giving him everything of value that she could salvage.

"B-but... Wouldn't your folks..."

"Listen, Dod-jah... You can have all of this, really... It's just..."

DODGER'S POV

He grabbed the bag as quickly as he had ever grabbed anything before in his life, his hands shaking. Sure, it wouldn't do much for his reputation if Fagin and the boys knew that a female toff had given him all of it, but who cared? Fagin needed the money, and here it was, right in his hands.

Suddenly, Alpharetta grabbed his arm.

"What now!" Dodger was startled. Had he been tricked.

"You can have ALL of this on ONE condition..."

Dodger nodded. "What, then?" He was willing to accept anything at this point. However, he was NOT prepared for what he heard next...

"I'm so lonely here. Dodger..."

He waited for her reply in silence.

"... Take me with you! I want to live the life of a pickpocket. I want adventure! Please, please, Mista Dod-jah... May I stay with you and the rest of your friends? Please! That's all I ask..."

Dodger couldn't even believe what he was hearing. But for some reason, he wasn't totally against the idea...

"Well... There aren't any girls there, you know. And there never 'ave been! You wouldn't be very welcome, so..." Of course, that was a total lie. He thought back to Bet, Nancy's friend, who had once been one of Fagin's pick-pockets. He shook his head, but couldn't get himself to loosen his grip on the bag of riches he held in his hand.

He looked at Alpharetta's down cast face, and it felt as though something had hit him in the chest.

"I promise to do good, Mista Dod-jah, I really really do... I'm a terribly stupid, ugly girl, but I can do whatever you ask of me, I promise!"

Dodger looked at the bag, then at the girl in front of him. This rich girl who hated being rich... Wanted to sacrifice her life of safety and comfort for becoming the scum of the street? He had never seen anything or anyone like her before. But for some reason, he wanted to know was something inside of him that told him he needed the money, for Fagin... for the boys..

... And having a new lodger couldn't be all that bad. Even if she was a GIRL... A RICH girl, nonetheless.

"... What about yer parents? What will they make of it?"

"They don't have to know! Really! They'll never know! Please, just take me with you... I'll do ANYTHING you want me to!" The look in her eyes... It was somewhat delirious, crazed, something along those lines. She really wanted to leave her life of a comfortable home, warm food in front of her every night... It was her loss then. Dodger knew they needed money. Today. Or else, it would all end for them... And Dodger finally gave in.

"... Alwight, fine!" He said, a grin somehow coming to his face. "We'd better get going then!"

Alpharetta's face lit up like the brightest light there ever was.

"Oh, Mista Dod-jah!" She took his hand, and before the Dodger knew it, the pair were flying out the front door. She didn't even bother to close it.

The 2 of them were running down the street, hand in hand, into the pouring rain, streams of white make-up running down Alpharetta's face. On their way out of the neighborhood, Dodger told Alpharetta everything about Fagin and the boys, even about the dreadful debt Fagin owed. When they finally exited the richest district in London, Alpharetta let go of the Dodger's hand before asking,

"Dod-jah... Do you... Do you think they... Your friends... Will they welcome me? I mean, will this 'Fagin' person allow me to live with you all? Is it... Really alwight?"

Dodger laughed out loud for the first time that whole day, an enormous bag of spoils in his hands, a happy Fagin and company in front of him.

"Alphie, consida yourself at HOME!"

And there you have it! Hope you guys enjoyed Chapter 3! ^^


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